Ask Amy
by Scarlet.Footprints.On.My.Heart
Summary: I knew not to mix business with pleasure. That was the number one rule of running your own company. And normally, I'm very focused when it comes to following the rules, but for some unknown reason, I just couldn't wrap my head around this one...  SasuSaku
1. Chapter 1

**Ask Amy**

**Blanket disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot  
**

Chapter One: Sasuke

"_People always talk about angels on earth…I guess mine has pink hair."_

I knew not to mix business with pleasure. That was the number one rule of running your own company. And normally, I'm very focused when it comes to following the rules, but for some unknown reason, I just couldn't wrap my head around this one. Maybe it was the bubblegum pink hair, or the viridian green eyes that threw me off course, but whatever it was, I had to figure out a way to block it out. This just wasn't normal protocol. This wasn't how things were supposed to work in _my_ firm. I wasn't supposed to be in a state of awe when I walked into my office one Thursday morning to find that attractive girl sitting across from my desk. I wasn't supposed to be intrigued while those full lips of hers droned on and on about her resume and impressive work ethic. And I damn sure in hell wasn't supposed to be glad that I'd hired her right on the spot without having given her an honest evaluation. But I was and there was nothing I could do about it but put our newest reporter to work as soon as possible. So that's what I did.

I sat up from my ebony chair and called Ino, my other employee, through the intercom box. She was my personal assistant, and most loyal worker, and even though I couldn't stand how her head was always in the clouds, I had to be somewhat civil towards her for she'd basically been here since the start of the company. No more than two minutes later did Ino appear beside me, her hair in that same messy bun, wearing that same shabby blazer. I didn't even have to look up to know that that had been her appearance…she was so predictable, that even bothering to look would have been irrelevant. Her cerulean eyes bore into my skull with an emotion I could exactly pinpoint as a combination of lust and fear—the only kind of amalgamation you could get with a hopelessly confused blonde. I had such a strong affect on her that it was almost annoying having to work with her all day. I could make this girl do whatever I wanted and more, and believe me, it wasn't just because I was her boss.

"You rang?" She asked as she stood in front of me, hands clasped together and head cocked to the side. Ino definitely wasn't ugly, but she just wasn't my kind of pretty. I don't know why I don't find her attractive while most guys basically throw themselves at her feet, but that's just the way it was. I didn't look up from the stack of papers I was currently engulfed in as I knew she hoped I would. I just told her to bring Ms Haruno to me at once, and that was all. She stalked off immediately, her stilettos clacking a bit louder than before. She was frustrated, I could tell, but I had a strict coworker dating policy and an even stricter employer dating policy. So wait, then what was I doing hiring pretty girls off of the street? Maybe I'm just tired of the same old routine everyday: walking around this hellhole, going to the same places, seeing the same people. I looked out of my window to see my staff working diligently and quietly like jaded ants. Yes, it was definitely time for a few adjustments.

I glanced up at the bulletin board beside me plastered with articles and announcements. I furrowed my eyebrows in thought. '_Hm, where to begin…'_

"Um…you wanted to see me, sir?" A soft, almost inaudible voice sounded from the threshold. The door creaked open as the girl known as Ms. Haruno strolled in, looking around at the mahogany furniture as if she hadn't seen it just 15 minutes ago. But that was to be expected when your office looked like mine. Her pink hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that just barely brushed the tips of her shoulder blades. The ivory button-up shirt and black slacks revealed that she'd tried to the best of her ability to appear professional. The pencil resting atop her ear was tacky and a bit 1970's, but it showed that dash of creativity I always looked for in a good journalist. I nodded curtly still examining her figure; she was short and slender with a face so flawless I could've mistaken her for a porcelain doll. And those eyes…those eyes…

"Ms. Haruno-" I began, gesturing for her to take a seat before my thoughts could expand and further. It was not proper to think so in depth about my workers.

"Oh please, just call me Sakura!" The girl offered with a cheesy smile. She was bubbly and gave off a bubbly aura. Boy, was she going to have her work cut out for her. I cut my eyes at her coldly; I don't like being interrupted.

"As I was saying, _Ms. Haruno,_" I continued stoically, this time emphasizing her name to show that I had no intentions of siplaying informality towards her. She must take a hint better than Ino because instantly her face dropped to a more realistic expression. I thanked God I wouldn't have to keep dropping clues. Why make my job any harder than it needs to be? "I have your first assignment." I announced pulling out three various newspapers and sprawling them out atop my desk. A cunning smirk I did not like at all creeped its way onto her face. I could practically see the gears in her head turning.

"What is it? Like a hard-hitting scandal revealed? Or like a celebrity love triable? Or, ooh ooh, maybe an escaped prisoner on the loose?" She began throwing out all sorts of ridiculous inquiries that made me wish I'd never hired her. I mean, did she honestly think that within 20 minutes of meeting her I'd give her a story that exclusive? I raised my eyebrow at all of her suggestions until she finally shut the hell up and let me talk.

"Ever heard of this column…'Ask Amy'?"

Judging from the confused look on Ms. Haruno's face, I inferred that she hadn't

"Ask who?"

"Amy."

"Who's Amy?"

"You are."

"I'm Amy?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm Sakura."

"Well as far as everyone else is concerned, you are Amy."

"…What!"

I heaved a sigh and tapped my fingers against my forehead. It was too early in the morning for this type of stress. Yet I took a deep breath and tried to come at it from another approach.

"Take a look here." I began, gesticulating at the periodicals. She complied and scanned the writing earnestly with those big green eyes. They bore into the paper as if she wanted to use heat vision to set it on fire. I'd never been so fascinated be someone's eyes before. Not even Ino's bright blue orbs could compare to those of Ms. Haruno's sultry and intense gaze. Because she had eyes that held a past full of secrets and mysteries, hopes and dreams, laughter and sorrow.

She had eyes like mine.

But no matter how interested I was with those emerald spheres, I had to keep things professional So I once again referred back to the newspapers and proceeded to explain. "Every successful newspaper has an advice column that draws readers in. People send in their questions to you, and you answer them using a fake name; simple as that. Some people just like reading about other people's problems. Other people actually need help with their and lives, and you, Ms. Haruno, are their go-to girl."

I tried to make the job sound interesting, but she still looked pretty pissed.

"So that's it?" She asked scanning the editorials. "Ask Amy?" She folded those thin arms and leaned on her right hip. Her bangs gell against her face almost completely covering her left eye.

"In a nutshell." I replied taking a sip of my coffee. I watched her intently, curious of what she might do next. Honestly, it looked like she could go both ways; either throwing a bitch fit and storming out or taking the job and calmly walking away.

"But I thought I'd be reporting edgy news, not telling some old lady what the best food for her cat is." The pinkette whined, which annoyed the shit out of me. I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. Great, just what I needed—another pushy wannabe reporter looking for the easy way to the top. Well, she sure in hell wasn't going to find it here.

"Look, you gotta walk before you can run alright? These are just your first steps." I pointed at one of the advice columns. "You gotta start somewhere." She looked at me and gave me one of those disappointed smiles; the kind that's supposed to make you feel guilty, but had no affect on me whatsoever. She nodded anyway and let herself out of my office. I stared for a moment at the last spot she'd stood before sinking back into my chair. I tapped my pencil against my notebook annoyed.

This column was going to be a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ask Amy**

**Chapter Two: Sakura**

_It is better to be looked over than to be overlooked._

I can't honestly say with a straight face that I was in love with my new job; nor can I bring myself to completely regret the decision wholeheartedly. I mean, on one hand, I'd finally landed my dream job of working at the press, but on the other, my boss was a complete ass, his assistant was a low-key prostitute, and I was getting claustrophobic in my closet-sized cubicle. But I guess you have to sacrifice to get what you want.

I probably should have known the interview was going to be a bust by the way the assistant looked at me when I'd first sauntered in. It was a look that told me I didn't belong in such a hardworking place. It was a look that told me I'd never amount to anything as long as I was here. It was a look that told me to get the fuck out. But I stood my ground and instead of running away frantically like I oh-so-deeply desired to do, I marched up to the receptionist's desk and offered my best smile.

"Hi, I'm S-Sasuke's eleven thirty." I informed her while hiding my shaky hands which held my resume behind my back. I pretended not to notice the way I stumbled over Sasuke's name. But you couldn't blame me; it wasn't everyday that a girl like me got the chance to meet a guy like him. What I mean by that is that I'm not exactly what you'd call special. Nah, I'm just your everyday 22-year-old looking for a job to help get my life started. I'd done everything a teenage girl was supposed to do: Go to school, get good grades, Meet the supposed love of my life, make a stupid decision to run away with him, get my heart broken, Go back to school, and then finally graduate. Yeah, that's how it normally works out. But Sasuke, however, he's had quite an interesting start on life or at least that's what all the magazine articles seem to think. He was the youngest writer to ever win the Amateur Author's Contest (he was 13), the first teenager to ever be published in Mariah Sandoh's To Be Remembered: A Collection of Tales Told By the Literature Genius' Themselves (he was 15) and he was the youngest author to ever write a book that remained number one on the top-selling charts for over a year. (That time, he was 18) And that was only some of the accomplishments I got to read about Mr. Sasuke Uchiha. The last I'd heard, he'd started his own newspaper, with his own staff, and his own stories. He'd achieved more goals in 10 years than I would probably ever achieve in my whole life. His whole existence had been about writing, whereas I only ever picked up a pencil when I had the time, and believe me, that wasn't very often. I mean, sure I'd always wanted to work at the press, but that was because writing was more of a hobby that an actual duty; I really didn't have to try hard to get out a good story. But I couldn't let my potential boss know that; he'd think I was making a mockery out of something he's based his whole life upon.

But I digress.

I bit on my lip to keep it from quivering and breathed deeply while the secretary fiddled on her computer. She was blonde and beautiful; the kind of girl you want to hate because she's so perfect, but still want to be friends with because you hope some of that perfection will rub off on you. At first, I wasn't too intimidated by her beauty, for I've always thought myself attractive as well. No, it wasn't until she directly looked at me that the emotion of jealousy panged my stomach. Her eyes were so full and so blue that not even the tint of the ocean could compare. Mine were just oversized and green…like mucus.

I scanned her neatly organized desk for a nameplate and eventually found one: Ino Yamanaka…even her name was pretty.

"Sakura Haruno?" She asked, raising her eyebrows and looking dead at me. I nodded meekly and when I did, she kind of snorted in disapproval as if she had been expecting someone better.

"Is there a problem?" I inquired, forgetting my nerves. The receptionist pressed her heavily glossed lips together in a thin line, trying hard not to laugh. This pissed me off, but I maintained my quick-temper for the greater good of the interview.

"No not at all." Ino assured, but the sneaky smirk on her face told me otherwise. I watched as she leaned back in her chair and gave me the whole cheap once-over routine. "So," she began with faux interest ", where do you get your hair done?"

This time it was my turn to snort. As if I hadn't heard that one before. I knew she was referring to my pink (and natural by the way) hair color. But 22 years of the same insult got old pretty fast.

By this time, I didn't care how beautiful her eyes were because they were about to get slapped to the back of her fucking throat. I cocked an eyebrow at Ino incredulously. "At this little shop right next to where you got those fake ass boobs done."

She clicked her tongue and stared at me with disapproving eyes. Her hands clutched her mauve pen so tightly; I could practically see the veins popping out. I smirked triumphantly…looks like I hit a nerve there. Oh well, serves the bitch right for talking about my hair color.

"In there." Ino directed, pointing to an office a little towards the right. I hesitated a minute wondering if I should really go through with it. Sure, if I didn't get the job it wouldn't be the end of the world or anything, but it was the only thing I was really qualified to do. I had my major in literature, though the class was easier to pass than gym. It wasn't my fault I'd gotten a teacher that believed giving out anything less than an A would ruin our self confidence. Still, I'd spent four years in that hellhole and working anyplace else would be a mockery to my education.

'_You can do this, Sak. You've waited almost half a decade for this moment. Now just breathe and nail this interview.' _I thought as I lingered in the waiting area. To everyone else, I moved slower than a turtle in quicksand, but to me, it seemed like I was in that office in no time at all.

'_Holy shit, he's loaded!'_ was the first realization that hit me when I entered his workplace. Deep mahogany furniture decorated the spacious office, and held priceless antiques. The rich bookshelf to the side obtained more classics than the library itself and judging from the absence of cliff notes, Sasuke must've had a more developed mind than I thought. A bulletin board with various articles pinned to it was hanging by his desk which I noticed had no framed pictures on it like most of these fancy offices had. I also took notice of the cozy fireplace and reading nook off in the corner. Those magazine articles didn't do his life much justice.

I sat down in one of the two cherry chairs across from Sasuke's desk and waited for him to show. It was odd that the boss was late for the interview and not the potential employee, but then again, Sasuke has obviously never done things according to normal protocol.

The click of the door reopening sent chills down my spine as I heard the presence of another being enter the room. I knew it was him because, well, who else would it be? I straightened up and tried not to look like the disheveled mess I felt like. He strolled up behind me and when he finally passed my chair, I felt my breath hitch in my throat. My eyes followed his built body to the other side of the desk where he sat down; his eyes never left mine.

Speaking of eyes, that was the first thing I noticed about Sasuke Uchiha. His were a deep Onyx color that seemed to pierce the soul of everything he looked at. His hair was black and messy, but a good kind of messy—like sex hair. He was pale with sharp, beautiful features. Between him and Ino, I was beginning to think that only pretty people were allowed to work here.

I bit my nail despite the fact that it looked disgusting and unprofessional, but all the practicing I'd done for this one moment seemed to have vanished along with my hopes of ever becoming a journalist.

"Ms. Haruno I presume?" Sasuke asked finally breaking the pregnant silence between us. I nodded my head and offered a crooked smile. I must have looked constipated or something because he raised his eyebrow at me like he was mortified.

Fuck.

"You don't speak?" He continued gazing at me with an expression of boredom mixed with frustration.

I at first began nodding my head before finally realizing he wanted me to talk. "I-I mean yes sir, I do."

"Resume?"

I handed him the piece of paper I almost forgot I had and watched him glaze over it with concentrated eyes. When he was done, he looked at me with two eyebrows raised.

"Your professor was Master Jiraiya?" He inquired.

"Yes." I replied sitting up a little taller in my chair. Did they know each other? Had Master Jiraiya taught him too?

He shook his head and flicked the paper off his desk as if it was no longer worthy of his presence.

"You might as well have been taught by a cockroach."

…Well, so much for that idea.

I sunk back down in my chair and produced an inaudible sigh. This was about to be the longest 15 minutes of my life.

* * *

"Wait, so you bombed the interview?" My best friend's voice sounded through the receiver of my cell phone.

"Completely." I replied as I spun around in my new office chair.

"And he still gave you the job?" She asked.

"Yup, and you wanna know the funny part? I don't even think he heard a word I said and if he did, than he deserves an Oscar for such impressive acting."

"Well, Sak, you've always been able to win people over with that innocent-girl charm of yours."

I scoffed at her accusation. "Believe me, TenTen, there was no charm present in that room whatsoever; just me talking, well mostly stuttering, about my work for 15 minutes."

On the other line, I heard TenTen shout some complex coffee order to one of her coworkers at Java Hut before returning to the conversation. "Sorry Sak, I'm gonna have to call you back after work. This lunch rush is killing me. But I'm really excited that you got the job! Call me later and tell me all about it, 'kay?"

"'Kay." I replied before snapping my phone shut and stopping my chair from spinning. I looked around at my cubicle which was small and boring, but it would do for now. I wasn't really in the mood to complain since I was still pumped-up from having gotten the job that seemed almost impossible to land. How I did it was still a mystery, but I wasn't about to end something that hadn't even started by asking irrelevant questions.

"Please, no personal calls at work." A familiar voice nagged at me from behind. I whirled around in my chair to find Ino standing in the opening of the cubicle, holding a clipboard and a fake smile on her face. I held my tongue even though there were so many things I wanted to say. After all, we were coworkers now and I had to treat her with at least some decency.

"Sorry. Won't happen again." I muttered as I resumed my spinning.

"Oh, I know it won't. Because next time I catch you, I get to write you up for insubordination!" She replied in an enthusiastic voice. I stopped spinning again and looked at her critically.

"What are we, 13?"

"You're the one spinning in a chair…you tell me."

I shook my head and turned towards the computer and began fiddling with the desktop icons.

"By the way, Mr. Uchiha wants you in his office pronto." She informed before turning on her heel and walking back towards wherever the hell she came from. I stood up and made my way back towards my new boss's headquarters, this time with a little more confidence than before. I'd already made it through the roughest part of the job, so what more should I be afraid of?

I softly opened the door to his office to find Mr. Uchiha gazing at some periodicals plastered on his bulletin board. I asked what he wanted of me, and come to find out, it was time for my first project as a reporter at the Uchiha Insider.

"Ask Amy, huh?" I muttered to myself as I let myself out of that luxurious (but intimidating) workplace. I had to admit, I was pretty disappointed that I hadn't gotten more of a serious assignment. But I knew I had to be patient and just do what I was told for now. I knew I had to show my boss what potential I possessed and to do that, I had to ace everything he threw at me.

Including Ask Amy.


End file.
